Edge
by Elf of the Wand
Summary: What happens when your expectations ruin your outlook? What happens when you fall, and can’t get up? What happens when you stumble, and lose your ground? What happens when you go over the edge?
1. Don't Try to Tell Me

**DISCLAIMER: NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME. THEY ALL BELONG TO THY HOLY GOD, TOLKIEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
**  
What happens when your expectations ruin your outlook? What happens when you fall, and can't get up? What happens when you stumble, and lose your ground? What happens when you go over the edge?  
  
Faramir slept soundly in his bed. The night air was soft on his face. He slept in dreamless slumber.  
  
Boromir snuck into his little brother's room. He turned on the lights, and shouted, "Faramir, it's your favorite brother!"  
  
Faramir leaped out of bed. "Boromir!" he shouted with joy. It had been several months since he had seen his brother, and he was overjoyed. "I thought that you said you would gone for a year or two!"  
  
Boromir smiled. "Nothing can stop me from getting home." Faramir laughed, and said, "You said you would bring me some things. Did you?"  
  
Boromir smiled again. "Yes I did, little brother. I would not travel all the way to the Land of the Horse Lords without bringing my little brother a present!"  
  
Faramir smiled. His brother never failed to bring him something special from all the places that he visited. Then, Faramir's face clouded. Their father only sent Boromir places. It was up to the older son to make sure that Faramir knew everything.  
  
The older one pulled out a small green sack. He grinned, and said, "Yours to enjoy." Faramir opened the sack. He gasped in delight.  
  
Inside, was a small wooden horse. Faramir shouted, "Wow! This is amazing!" Boromir nodded. "It was carved for you by the king's own captain." Faramir hugged Boromir, and said, "Thanks Bori." Boromir smiled inside, but then said, "I have to go back to my rooms. I'll see you tomorrow!" Faramir smiled. He said, "Ok. Good night!" Boromir waved, and said, "Good night." He closed the door to his five-year-old brother's room.  
  
Boromir sighed. Sometimes, it was hard to be so nice to Faramir all the time. He could get annoying sometimes, but deep down, he knew that his brother was worth his care. He smiled, and strolled over to his room.  
  
Faramir looked at the little wooden horse in amazement. He picked it up, and said, "Neigh!" He giggled, and amused himself with his new gift until one of the guards rapped on his door and said, "Master Faramir, you must go to bed." Faramir giggled, and said, "I will, Master Guard."  
  
The guard smiled. Master Guard, indeed.

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Years passed. Darkness started covering the land in the East. Boromir set out from Minas Tirith to defend Osgiliath. Faramir went with him.  
  
Faramir tried to prove his worth to his father, but his father only had eyes for Boromir when he climbed to the top of the domed building and claimed the City of the Stars for Gondor. Faramir felt lonely, and worthless, as his father praised Boromir, and insulted Faramir loudly.  
  
"Now, if Faramir had been in charge of this attack, this city would still be under control of the Shadow. But no, I decided that only my best captain would lead this attack. I know for sure that I made the right choice." Boromir beamed, but inside, he saw his younger brother cringe from all the remarks that Denethor was making.  
  
He tapped his father on his shoulder. "Um, father? I need to go speak to Faramir." Denethor just smiled tightly, and said, "You can go do that." Then, he whispered to Boromir, "Remember, he did not help in this invasion. All he did was give Osgiliath to the Shadow in the first place." Boromir nodded, but inside, he thought, The day I do that is the day that the Shadow covers all of Gondor.  
  
Faramir saw his brother walking towards him. "Boromir?" Faramir asked. Boromir gritted his teeth, and said, "Come with me."  
  
Boromir led his brother to a secluded area. He whispered, "Don't pay attention to Father. He doesn't hate you." Faramir broke out into tears. He cried out, "He doesn't hate me! Of course he hates me! You know it as well as I do. You know it as well as everyone in Gondor does! Everyone and everything knows that Father loathes me. If you were lost, and I remained, he would beg with the Valar to replace us! He only wants you by his side, his special elder son!" He spat out those last words, and turned and ran.  
  
Boromir cried out, "Wait, Fari! Come back!" Faramir stopped. The last time he had heard those words... when was the last time he had heard those words? He said coldly, "What do you have to say now?"  
  
Boromir winced, and said, "Look, I don't want to hurt you. I just want to let you know that Father really doesn't hate you. He can't hate you."  
  
Faramir spat out, "It seems that way, doesn't it?" Then, he turned, and ran again.  
  
Boromir sank down on his knees. He asked himself, "Why do I bother trying to tell my brother that he is not hated by his family?" He stood up, and walked back to the celebration.  
  
Faramir continued running. He ran until he passed the walls of Osgiliath. He ran and he could see the White City up ahead. He ran past that, and he kept on running, through the plains of Gondor. He kept on running, and running, and he saw the green windswept meadows of Rohan. He kept running, until he saw the Great Forest. He stopped, and panted, "So this is where my feet carry me." He stepped into the forest.  
  
The trees were wary of this new visitor, and they didn't hesitate to trip him and whack him with branches. Faramir scowled, and said, "Nobody loves me, not even trees." He continued walking through the forest, until he saw a small spring.  
  
He bent down, and scooped some of the water onto his face. The water smelled clean and pure, so unlike himself.  
  
Faramir looked around. He was in a small clear patch amidst tall towering trees. Somehow, he felt like he was five again.  
  
Faramir felt happy. When he was five, his brother was still his friend, his father didn't hate him, and the people of Gondor viewed him and his brother as the Two Heirs of the Throne. Now, there was only one Heir. Now, his brother was less his friend, and more his comrade. Now, his father despised him.  
  
Faramir thought grimly, That's all about to change. He stood up from the spring, and made his way through the Forest of Fangorn. 


	2. The Solution to a Problem

**What happens when your expectations ruin your outlook? What happens when you fall, and can't get up? What happens when you stumble, and lose your ground? What happens when you go over the edge?**

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Boromir laughed weakly along with Denethor. He was making fun of Faramir. Boromir thought, Fari's right. My dad does hate him. But why? He drank some more ale, and smiled at various people in the room.  
  
Denethor thought, Where is my fool son Faramir? He shouted, "I wonder where my other son went. Perhaps he went into hiding to rid himself of the shame?" The whole room laughed, except for Boromir. He shouted, "No, he has left this city because of the words that you taunt him with." The whole room quieted. Denethor spoke coldly, "And why should I care?"  
  
Boromir spoke in the same tone, "You should care because you are his father. He knows that you hate him, while he has only been exceedingly loyal to your cause. You have been making him suffer ever since he broke that one plate. It was one plate, for the Valar's sake!"  
  
Denethor stiffened. He said, "It was no ordinary plate. It was a vintage bronze plate by the Dwarves in the First Age." Boromir shouted at him, "Do you have no sympathy at all for my brother? Your own son?" With that, Boromir ran from the room.  
  
Denethor cried out, "Wait Boromir! You cannot leave now, not while I have a task for you to do!" Boromir shouted, "I am not your puppet, Denethor! Let me take my leave, or I shall never forgive you!" With that, he leaped onto his horse, and dashed off towards Minas Tirith.

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Faramir was strolling around Fangorn forest. He loved the forest, and the trees were slowly adapting to him. Instead of tripping and whacking him, they only tripped him.  
  
Faramir had an idea. It would take a while to complete, and was almost surely not going to work, but he had an idea.  
  
He would try and find the fabled One Ring.  
  
Oh yes, he had heard his father speaking about it with his closest advisors. He was going to appoint the task of getting the Ring for Gondor to Boromir. However, they didn't count on Faramir finding out.  
  
Faramir said, "They say the Ring is at Rivendell. Boromir wants to stay in Osgiliath, while I want some of my Father's attention. This is surely one way to get it, no?"  
  
"I don't think it is a wise way to get it."  
  
Faramir spinned around. He saw one of the fabled Tree shepherds, an Ent, looking down at him.  
  
He spat out, "Really? Then how do you propose I do it?"  
  
The Ent slowly boomed, "Don't be so hasty, Master Man. There are more ways than one to show your worth to someone. You mustn't overdo yourself."  
  
Faramir's anger calmed down. He spoke quietly to the giant Ent, "Fine. I will try and take your advice. I will not seek the Ring from Rivendell, but I will do something to show that I am my brother's equal." He clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth to hold in his inner anger.  
  
The Ent nodded. "Good. You are progressing. It is good to know that you are holding in your anger. But do not keep it in too long, for it will wear away at your soul."  
  
Faramir asked quietly, "My name is Faramir. What is yours?"  
  
The Ent said, "Some call me Treebeard, some call me Fangorn. It really depends how old you are." He chuckled, and said, "I will try and help you earn your father's attention, but you must first tell me exactly who you are, and what is your dilemma."  
  
Faramir sighed. "My name is Faramir, son of Denethor, steward of Gondor. My brother, Boromir, is the apple of my father's eye. My father is devout to my brother, and he cares only for my brother. My father... he hates me." Faramir had tears rolling down his cheek. He sobbed quietly into his sleeve.  
  
Treebeard used his arm to make the man stand up. "What we have here is a case of miscommunication. He doesn't hate you. However, he conveys his feelings to you somewhat of hate. Does that make any sense at all?" Faramir nodded, then shook his head.  
  
"I somewhat get it, but I mostly don't."  
  
Treebeard sighed. "Very well then. I guess that you don't want to hear a long explanation, so I will make this as simple as possible. Your father loves Boromir more than you, yes, but he doesn't despise you. He merely doesn't show his care openly for you. He shows his care for your brother more. That doesn't mean he hates you. It is his choice on how he chooses to convey his feelings. You must respect that choice, and try to understand it."  
  
Faramir looked up at Treebeard. "How can I respect a choice that is made against me?"  
  
Treebeard sighed, and said, "He did not make that choice against you. It is just a choice he made. It is a regular choice, just like choosing a weapon. Some may choose bows, some may choose swords, and some may choose axes. You may choose a sword, whilst your father chooses an ax. That is just his choice. You cannot change the weapon he chooses to deal his blows with."  
  
Faramir looked at Treebeard again, and said, "How can I make him choose a sword?"  
  
Treebeard sighed again, and said, "There is no way to make him undo his choice, except one. You will always be held in lesser esteem than Boromir, until the ax is no longer a choice."  
  
Faramir looked at Treebeard in awe. "You're saying that if there is no ax, then there will be no choice for an ax!" Treebeard slightly nodded, and said, "Do you know what I propose?"  
  
Faramir looked at Treebeard in horror. "I will not kill my brother!"  
  
Treebeard clasped his hands onto his head. "No, you fool, I am not suggesting you kill your brother! I am saying that you must somehow shift your father's attention from the ax, instead of destroying it!"  
  
Faramir looked at Treebeard quizzically. "How can I remove Boromir from the picture?"  
  
Treebeard shouted, "You are not removing your brother! You are simply shifting your father's choice! You must be more like an ax for your father to choose it! If your father has two axes, he must care for both equally!"  
  
Faramir looked as though the dawn had just risen. He said, "You are suggesting that I be more like Boromir!"  
  
Treebeard slammed his hand on a nearby tree. "YES! You finally get it! You mortals take so long to teach... that's why I don't do my lectures very often." He rubbed the tree's trunk. "I'm sorry, Oak, it's just that I had to teach a lesson." The tree hummed, and Treebeard looked happy again.  
  
Faramir whispered to himself, "I have to be more like Boromir... so be it!" He shouted to Treebeard, "Thank you!" The Ent nodded, and said, "Anytime, Faramir son of Denethor, anytime." 


	3. A Stranger in the Wood

**DISCLAIMER: NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME (except for Arddun, but I made her up). MOST OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO THE WONDERFUL JOHN RONALD REUEL TOLKIEN.** Wow, don't you just love disclaimers?

NybCR: I know Faramir isn't a wimp, but this is when he's younger. I just twisted the storyline to be when Mordor was attacking Osgiliath.

Seto'swhiterose88: Thanks for reviewing my story!

LadyofRivendell78: I know who you are! (gasps) Anyways, as always, thanks for reading my stories when almost no one else will.

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Arddun peeked through the window. Maybe, just maybe, she could glimpse at least the shadow of the great King.

There was now loud cheering coming through her thin cottage walls. She raced outside, and tried to find what she was looking for.

There he was, the great Rohan king. King Theoden of Calenardhon, or Rohan, was back from his long trip to Gondor. The whole of Edoras was flooded waiting for him.

Arddun squeezed between two elderly men. "Sorry, sirs, but I am related to the King, and I wish to speak to him privately." The two men bowed, and let her through.

Arddun smiled to herself. That was easy. She really was not a blood relative to the royal house, but she was best friends with Eowyn, the king's niece, so that was close enough.

Eowyn turned around. "Arddun!" She shouted. The two friends embraced, and Eowyn tugged Arddun's hand. "Quickly, my uncle has already passed through the front gates!" The two young women quickly rushed through the crowd, which parted for the King's niece.

Theoden turned Snowmane around. "Eowyn!" he exclaimed, and he laughed, and let down an arm to hug his niece. Eowyn beamed, and turned around. "Eomer!" she shouted, and rushed off to hug her brother. Eomer was shaken, and his horse was startled. Eomer's steed galloped around the streets of Edoras for a while, while the crowd laughed. Eomer laughed nervously, but he whispered to Eowyn, "Don't do that again."

Arddun bowed down to the great Rohan king. "My lord..." she murmured. Theoden laughed. "There is no need to be so formal with me, Arddun." Arddun looked Theoden in the eye, and said, "Welcome home, King of the Never-ending Plains."

When the celebrations were over, Arddun and Eowyn snuck into the blacksmith's shed. Arddun whispered, "You know, I think that the King knows what I want to do. But I have a feeling that he's letting me." Eowyn shook her head. "Nonsense. If the King knew what you were planning, then he would stop you. Everyone knows that going to Fangorn is like trying to go into a death trap." Arddun stayed silent. In her mind, she gave herself a play-by-play of what was going to happen.

I must wake up to the sun rising, and take my things with me. I'll take Daeru, one of the rider's horses, and ride out for Fangorn. From there, I must find my way North, to the Misty Mountains. Then, I must find my way to the Rhimdath River. From there, I must follow its path through the mountains, and make my way through the Ettenmoors. Then, I must travel through Angmar and Arnor until I get to the Hills of Evendion. There, I turn South, and as soon as I find the Lake, I will turn West, and come to the Blue Mountains. Then, I will skirt the Havens, and make my way to Forlindon. Arddun was very proud of her plans. She had studied with the local cartographer, and learned how to use a map, and scale herself. She planned the trip to take at least a month.

Eowyn studied the expression on her friend's face. She evidently had no thoughts about leaving the place that she had grown up in all her life.

Eowyn thought about her friend. Arddun had been very unlucky through her childhood. Her mother, a traveler from Gondor, had met her father, one of the Riders, when she visited. They ran away to Forlindon. Her mother then gave birth to Arddun, but died soon afterwards. Her father had sent Arddun back to Rohan on a horse, with nothing to protect her but the rope that tied her to the saddle. Arddun still had that rope.

Her friend was searching for her father. She was leaving the place she called home for her real home, far away to the North. Eowyn wished that her friend would reconsider, but she knew that once Arddun made up her mind, it was very hard to change it.

Eomer peeked through the blacksmith's shed window. Ah, so there were the two. His sister's long blonde hair was visible against the dark black shed, and so was her friend's short light caramel hair. He tapped the window. The two looked back, startled. Eomer chuckled. He opened the door to the shed. "Planning something?"

Eowyn scowled at him. "None of your business, you annoying sneak." Arddun started stuffing items in her bag. Eomer watched them carefully. Sword, dagger, riding studs, and black charcoal. Arddun was obviously going somewhere.

Eomer said, "Arddun, you are packing for a trip, are you not?" Arddun didn't look up; she just nodded, and put her bag over her shoulder. She left the shed, and headed up the hill, towards the cartographer's small hut. Eowyn rolled her eyes at her brother, and murmured in his ear, "Thanks, brother." Eomer smiled, and said, "Come. We are wanted by our uncle."

Arddun snuck into the hut, and took a few maps. One of Northern Rohan, one of Fangorn, one of the East of the Misty Mountains, and one of the far Northwest. She slipped out of the hut, and hurried back to her cottage.

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Day broke over the horizon. Arddun shot up out of her covers. She pulled on some rough pants that she had stolen from Eomer, a farmer's shirt, and a cloth cap that she tucked her hair into. She slung on her bag, which clanked from its hidden bounty. She took ten saddlebags filled to the brim with food. Arddun snuck out of her cottage, and ran over to the stable.

"Here, come here," she whispered to a gray mare in the first stall. She snorted, and pawed the ground nervously. Arddun bit her tongue. She slipped out a small cube of sugar. "Shhh... don't wake everyone up!" The horse contently chomped on the sugar, making the most noise possible. Arddun saw one of the stable boys wake up. "What is going on?"

Arddun ran into the stall next to the gray mare. The stable boy passed her, and said, "Oh, Daeru, where did you get that sugar? Did you sneak into the food shed again?" The horse whinnied, and stomped the ground. The stable boy looked around, and said, "All right. Fine, I won't tell the stable master anything this time, but still any more sugar, and I'll have to report you." The stable boy mock scolded the horse, but she snorted, and continued chomping her sugar.

As soon as the boy left, Arddun ran into the tack stall, and grabbed a small silver ornate bridle. She clicked on a lead, and slung it over the horse's head. Daeru snorted, and slipped her head into the bridle straps. Arddun buckled them, and went back into the tack room. She took a fairly large leather saddle, and slung it over the mare's back. She clipped on the saddlebags, and then slung herself over Daeru's back. The mare reared up, and whinnied loudly. Arddun winced. That should wake up the entire city.

Daeru whacked her stable door until the latch broke off. The gray mare and her baggage rode out of the stable.

The stable boy ran over to Daeru's stall. "Hey, where is Alcarin's mare?"

Eowyn woke up to loud whinnying. She jumped out of her bed, to look out her window. She saw a horse and a rider riding out of the gates of Edoras.

"I give you all speed, Arddun. I hope you know your way, and you will find what you are looking for."

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Faramir strolled around the forest. So, the only way to gain Denethor's trust was to act more like Boromir, eh? He started thinking. If there was only a way... his brother was five years older than him. Maybe he should grow up five years... Faramir shook his head. No. No one I know could possibly speed up my aging process, except...

Faramir remembered an urban legend that Boromir had once told him. "There is a place up to the north, a place that was once the kingdom of Gil-Galad: Lindon. In its northern portion, there is a small village, where an Enchantress lives. It is said that she can work more magic than all of the Istar combined!" Faramir had shaken it off as a childish tale. But now... what if it was true?

All of a sudden, he heard a shrill whinny. He turned around, armed with only a tree branch. He shouted, "Who goes there?"

A tall girl with shoulder-length light brown hair and deep black eyes stepped out of the bushes, holding the lead of a horse. "I could ask the same thing. What are you doing with that branch?"

Faramir blushed. "Uh, I was, uh, practicing my sword fighting." He began parrying with an invisible enemy.

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Interesting... why are you in the forest? Not many people are willing to come here."

Faramir ignored her question. "Why are you wearing burlap pants?"

This time, the girl blushed. "I had to escape from my city."

Faramir shrugged. Whatever she said.

The girl asked again, "Why are you in the forest?" Faramir answered, "I am here to escape from my city, and find the Enchantress in Lindon."

The girl perked up. "Really? Lindon... I am traveling there as well. Perhaps we could travel together. I have maps, a route, and everything." Faramir looked up. "That would be a good idea."

A long awkward silence followed, until the girl said, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. My name is Arddun, daughter of Vanyaloske, a Rider, and Rana the Traveler. Who are you?"

Faramir said, "My name is Faramir, son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, and Finduilas from Dol Amroth."

Arddun nodded. "If we are to travel together, then we must leave now." She stepped up onto her horse, outstretched her hand, and said, "Are you coming?"

Faramir hesitated, and took her hand.


End file.
